


A Little Rusty

by mrs_d



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, First Date with Captain America, First Dates, Humor, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve still doesn't know how to talk to women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Make sure you wipe that stupid look off your face before you meet Sharon,” Bucky told him, stepping back once he was done with Steve’s navy blue tie.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Sam replied, giving Steve a once-over and nodding with approval when Steve tugged on his grey suit jacket to straighten it. “She probably finds Steve’s stupid looks endearing.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Rusty

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KVWi8GciZKI) in which Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie explain how Bucky and Sam would coach Steve through his first date.
> 
> Also, in case you're interested, the working title of this fic was "Buckano de Birdgerac," but I didn't know if anybody would get it.

“Quit squirming,” Bucky muttered.

“Sorry,” Steve said quickly, forcing himself to stay still as Bucky finished adjusting his tie.

It was just so familiar, Bucky helping him get ready for a date, that Steve kept finding himself reaching out to touch Bucky, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Not that there weren’t differences, too: Bucky was at eye level, for one thing, his hair was still way too long, and the light glinting off his brand new metal arm was really distracting.

“Okay, I’ve got these tuned to the same frequency,” Sam announced, standing up from the desk with the miniature communicators.

He popped one in Bucky’s ear, kissing the lobe before pulling away and handing one to Steve. Another difference, Steve thought. Bucky wasn’t going with Steve on this date, wasn’t bringing his own girl; Bucky wasn’t even dating a girl right now.

Or ever again, Steve amended internally, as Bucky went a little pink and the corners of his mouth turned upwards. Sam and Bucky seemed perfect together, and Steve basked in the happiness of his two best friends.

“Make sure you wipe that stupid look off your face before you meet Sharon,” Bucky told him, stepping back once he was done with Steve’s navy blue tie.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied, giving Steve a once-over and nodding with approval when Steve tugged on his grey suit jacket to straighten it. “She probably finds Steve’s stupid looks endearing.”

“Could be,” Bucky mused. He fiddled with his earpiece, and Steve and Sam did the same. “Communications check?”

“Loud and clear,” said Steve.

“Uh, you do realize we’re standing less than three feet apart?” Sam pointed out.

“Super hearing,” Bucky said dismissively, giving Steve a look that meant _just play along_.

Steve hadn’t seen that one in a while, but his reaction was instinctual. He nodded at Sam, straight-faced and earnest.

Sam looked skeptical, but he shrugged nonetheless. “Whatever. Steve, you should probably get going. You don’t want to be late.”

“Right,” said Steve, all his nerves crashing in on him again. “You sure I look okay?”

“Darling, you look just like a spring morning, anywhere but here,” Bucky drawled.

Steve had another moment of vertigo, of the past and present colliding. Bucky was parroting their next-door neighbor, Lou, who performed every Saturday night as Chantelle down at the local queer joint.

Sam was staring at Bucky like he’d never seen him before. “Um, what?”

“You remember that,” Steve murmured, awed all over again that he had his best friend back after all these years.

“I remember the goddamned glitter all over the front steps,” Bucky replied bitterly. “Couldn’t sit down for a smoke without getting my ass all sparkly.”

Steve laughed out loud — he’d actually forgotten all about that.

“You guys are weird,” Sam said, but his gaze dropped, and he added, “I might able to get behind a sparkly ass, though, Barnes, if you know what I mean.”

Steve held up a hand. “Please don’t tell me what he means.”

Bucky just grinned. “Come on, man, get out of here,” he ordered.

He shoved at Steve’s shoulder, and Steve let himself be moved, like Bucky was still a lot bigger and stronger than him, when really they were equally matched for the first time ever.

“All right, all right,” Steve said, heading for the door of Sam and Bucky’s hotel room. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it,” Bucky replied, slinging an arm around Sam and pulling him tight to his side.

“Yeah, you got us,” Sam agreed. “We’re better.”

***

While the host was leading Steve to his table, Steve’s phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced down, saw the notification of a message from Sharon that began with _Sorry_. His stomach plummeted, but he forced himself to wait until he was seated to open the message.

_Sorry, gonna be a little late. Will explain when I get there._

Steve breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He texted back, _That’s usually my line_ , and received an immediate _LOL_ in response.

“She’ll be late,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, to keep his advisors in the loop.

“How come?” asked Bucky, his voice as clear as if he were right beside him.

“Don’t know, said she’ll explain in person.”

“Probably just traffic,” Sam reassured him.

“Gives you a chance to plant the bug without making up an excuse,” Bucky reminded him.

“Right,” said Steve. He dug the tiny listening device out of his suit pocket, then hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”

“Steve,” Sam sighed.

“Okay, okay,” Steve said. He knocked his napkin to the floor and used it as an opportunity to stick the bug to the bottom of the table, close to Sharon’s side. “Done,” he muttered.

There was a little blast of feedback in Steve’s ear; he tried not to wince too visibly.

“Got it,” came Bucky’s voice a second later. “Now we’ll be able to hear her, too.”

Steve lifted the menu in front of his face. “I’m still not sure this was a good idea. If she finds out you’re listening...”

“It’s just a precaution,” Sam said, for what had to be the tenth time. “If she’s trying to bring you in, we need to know.”

Steve sighed. “Life of a fugitive, I guess.”

“And I’ll bet she’s recording the conversation, too, just in case you turn on her.”

“She wouldn’t do that, Sam,” Steve protested.

“What, you kiss a girl, you think that means you know her?” asked Bucky. “Do I need to remind you about Esther—”

“She’s here,” Steve whispered, catching a glimpse of Sharon out of the corner of his eye.

He pretended not to watch as she approached, moving like liquid through the restaurant in a blue lacy dress that matched the shade of Steve’s tie almost exactly. He wondered if she’d had surveillance on him to plan her outfit so perfectly, then he pushed the thought out of his head as he got to his feet.

She saw him and waved, but pointed apologetically in the direction of the restroom. _One minute_ , she mouthed. Steve nodded, and Sharon gave him a bright smile before she turned away.

“What’s happening?” asked Sam.

“She’s going to the bathroom. What do I do?”

“Sit your ass back down, for one thing,” replied Bucky.

“Right,” said Steve, and he did.

Of course Bucky would have guessed that he’d stood up to greet his date. He wondered if Bucky still did that around women, too. But, then again, the only woman he really hung out with was Natasha, and she’d probably break his nose if he tried any of that chivalrous, ladies-first kind of stuff.

“Waiter’s coming back,” Steve said under his breath a moment later. “Should I order a drink for her?”

“Yes?” Bucky started to say, but he was drowned out almost immediately.

“No!” cried Sam. “Don’t do that. Just— no. Trust me.”

“Hi there,” said the waiter pleasantly, talking over Sam’s explanation of how buying someone a drink without asking was _hella suspicious nowadays_. “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

“Um,” said Steve, more to get his friends to shut up than anything else. “Can we get a glass of water? Two waters. Unless, do you think she wants water? Maybe I should wait until—”

“Water is fine, Steve,” Sam said, loudly and clearly.

“Water is fine,” Steve repeated. “Two glasses of water. No lemon in one. Thank you.”

The waiter blinked exactly twice, then nodded. “Okay then. Coming right up.”

“Smooth,” Bucky remarked.

“Shut up,” Steve muttered.

He fiddled with the edge of the menu until the waiter brought over two glasses of ice water. Sharon returned a moment later — Steve resisted the urge to leap to his feet and get her chair — and took a long drink.

“Thanks,” she said finally. “I was parched. The ride from the hotel took forever, and I swear the cab driver had the heat on.”

“Maybe you’re just not used to the climate?” Steve suggested.

“Could be,” Sharon agreed. “I haven’t been in this part of the world as long as you have.”

“How long will you be in Kampala?” Steve asked, hoping he didn’t sound too needy or hopeful.

Sharon lowered her voice. “Long enough to convince my bosses that you’re not here.”

Steve chanced a smile. “Well, technically, I’m not.”

“Technically,” she repeated, but she was smiling, and her tone was playful. “Just like technically, I don’t know that you’ve got a Wakandan jet waiting to fly you out of here the second something goes sideways.”

“I’m keeping a low profile,” Steve said.

“I noticed,” Sharon replied. She took a few more mouthfuls of water, then tilted her head curiously. “Can I touch it?”

“Uh,” said Sam, and Steve thought he heard Bucky choke on something.

Steve managed to keep a straight face, but just barely, and nodded. Sharon raised her hand to his newly bearded cheek and rubbed it with just her fingertips.

“It’s softer than it looks,” she commented, and her voice was soft, too, and more than a little sexy, Steve thought. “Kind of like you, I guess.”

Steve felt his face getting warm, but he took another chance. He leaned in a little, until she was cupping his jaw. “Kind of.”

His lips brushed her palm, and he heard her draw in a slightly startled breath. He wondered if he could get close enough to kiss her across the table, but she was already starting to pull away, leaving his cheek tingling slightly where she’d touched him.

“I like it,” she said finally.

She cleared her throat then and reached for her menu, so Steve did the same, aware of the way his palms were sweating, and that his heart was thumping in his chest.

“Say something,” suggested Bucky after a moment. “Make small talk.”

“So,” Steve began, but when Sharon looked up expectantly, he panicked and asked the first stupid question that sprang to mind. “Shot any bad guys lately?”

“Dude!” Sam groaned in his ear, but Sharon actually laughed.

“You know that’s classified,” she said, her tone still teasing. “And given that you’re a fugitive from justice on foreign soil...”

“Right,” said Steve with a brisk nod. “Sorry, forget I asked.”

Sharon raised her menu then, still chuckling, and Steve did the same.  

“Seriously, Steve?” Bucky’s incredulous tone was exactly the same as it ever was. “Shooting people — that’s what you’ve got for small talk?”

“Like you wouldn’t ask the same thing,” Sam grumbled.

“Not on a first date,” Bucky protested.

“Oh, I see. That’s a second date sort of thing?”

“At least,” said Bucky. “Steve, tell her she looks beautiful.”

“You look lovely tonight,” Steve murmured, lowering the menu to look at her over it.

“Thanks,” she said. “You clean up nice, too. For an ex-pat.”

“Thanks,” Steve echoed. “I think.”

She gave him a smile that was a little sad and reached across the table, finding his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry. You probably want to come home, don’t you?”

“Less than you might think,” Steve replied, shaking his head. “Wakanda’s really nice, T’Challa’s taking good care of us. And I really like this whole Secret Avengers thing we’ve got going on.”

Sharon let go and patted the back of Steve’s hand. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Sorry, I said I—”

“No,” Sharon laughed. “I heard you. I just didn’t _hear_ you.”

“Oh,” Steve said, catching on.

He was going to say more, but the waiter came back then, asking about wine.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” Steve told him, gesturing at Sharon. “You pick.”

“Actually, wine gives me a headache,” she said. “If I want a drink, I’m more of a straight whiskey girl.”

“Ooh, my kind of lady,” said Bucky.

“Down, boy,” Sam rebuked.

“But I think we’ll pass on drinks, actually,” Sharon told the waiter. “Water’s fine. Are you ready to order, S— uh, honey?”

Steve blinked in surprise, then nodded — as aliases went, he liked it.

***

“You know,” Sharon said seriously, once their meals had arrived, and the waiter had left again. “My assignment’s still to bring you in. Or Barnes, at least.”

In Steve’s ear, Bucky quietly sang, “Nah-nah nah nah-nah.”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes without thinking, and Sharon added, “But you know I’m not going to do that, right?”

He looked up and realized, from her wounded and worried expression, that she’d misinterpreted his reaction.

“Oh, no,” he said hurriedly. “I mean, yes, I—” He cut himself off with a sigh. He reached over and took her hand again so that she raised her eyes and met his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re not going to bring me in. I know... I know I can trust you, Sharon,” he said finally. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do,” she replied, quiet but earnest.

Her grip tightened, and she entwined their fingers. Steve noticed that hers were almost as calloused as his. They smiled at each other across the table, the candlelight bringing out the warm brown of her eyes and reflecting in the glimmer of her pear-drop earrings.

Now, Steve thought with a stunning clarity, now would be a good time to kiss her.

“You are such an asshole,” Sam muttered all of the sudden.

“You love me,” Bucky replied carelessly.

Steve wished he could tell them they’d ruined the moment.

* * *

Sam yawned and took the communicator out of his ear before he stood up from the desk and stretched. Bucky turned and shot him a curious glance over his shoulder.

“No offense,” Sam said, “but if I have to listen to them talking about paperwork for one more minute, I might fall asleep.”

Bucky chuckled. “You’re on your own for a sec, pal,” he said to Steve, before removing his own earpiece and coming to stand with his hands on Sam’s hips.

“I just don’t get it,” Sam went on. “Why would you go out on a date with a beautiful woman like Sharon and then talk shop all night? And it’s not even interesting shop talk. You and I both know he has better work stories.”

“True,” Bucky agreed with a nod. “But you know Steve, he’s probably trying to be a gentleman.”

“A boring gentleman,” Sam said through another yawn.

Bucky shrugged. “She seems to be into it.”

“Lucky,” Sam muttered. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Bucky’s, then pulled away and headed to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face to keep himself awake.

Bucky was back at the makeshift security console when he returned, but he stood up as soon as Sam sat down. “I gotta take a leak.”

“Thanks for sharing,” Sam said as he put the communicator back in his ear.

Bucky just laughed. A second later, the bathroom door clicked shut.

“Sam, Bucky, you there?” asked Steve.

“I’m here, what’s up?”

“Sharon’s in the restroom again. I’m paying the bill right now, and then she’s invited me up for coffee.”

Somebody’s getting laid, Sam thought with a grin. “Sounds good, man,” he said out loud. “You good to go off comms, then?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Steve, and he sounded as serious as if Sam had just entrusted him with the nuclear launch codes. Sam sighed.

“Steve,” he said gently. “Relax. You’ll be fine. It’s pretty clear we can trust Sharon, just like we thought, so take your earpiece out, go with her, and enjoy yourself, okay? You deserve a night off.”

“I—” Steve began, but then he said, “Okay, thanks.”

Sam figured that he was talking to the restaurant staff, so he waited. Sure enough, a second later, Steve went on.

“You’ll leave yours on, though, if something happens?”

“Yes,” Sam reassured him. “You need us, we’ll come running.”

Steve was silent for another moment, and Sam had a sudden vision of him sneaking off to the bathroom in the middle of the night to ask them for sex advice. He pushed the thought away and made the executive decision that Bucky would be the one to deal with that if something — ha ha — came up.

“Okay,” Steve said at last. “Going dark.”

“Have a good night,” Sam drawled.

“What’s going on?” asked Bucky from right behind him, and Sam practically jumped out of his skin.

“Christ, man, we talked about this,” Sam exclaimed, trying to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” said Bucky. He rested his hands on Sam’s shoulders and rubbed gently. A second later, his mouth was at the nape of Sam’s neck, and Sam was breathless for another reason.

“I forgive you,” Sam mumbled.

“Thought you might,” Bucky said against his skin; the cocky bastard knew exactly where to speak so the vibration of his voice sent chills down Sam’s spine. “But you didn’t answer my question. What’s going on?”

“Oh, right,” said Sam, forcing his brain to think straight. “Steve’s going off comms. They’re getting coffee.”

Sam was expecting a laugh or maybe a dirty joke, but instead Bucky pulled away instantly. “Where?” he demanded, bending over the laptop that displayed the map of the city.

“Uh, Sharon’s hotel room?” Sam replied.

Bucky stopped. Looked up. Blinked. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they go to a hotel room for coffee?”

Sam stared. “Oh,” he said at last, catching on. “Baby, they’re not actually having coffee,” he explained, getting to his feet again to hug Bucky from behind.

“Then, what—?”

Sam skimmed his hands down to Bucky’s ass, then ducked in to lick Bucky’s ear lobe. Bucky went rigid in his arms, and Sam watched goose bumps rise on the back of his neck.

“They’re having coffee,” Sam breathed.

“Oh,” Bucky echoed faintly. “Coffee?”

“ _Coffee_ ,” Sam repeated. “It’s a 21st century dating thing. You want some?”

Bucky spun in his arms and kissed him deep and messy the way Sam liked it, walking them backwards to the bed. Sam sat down with a thump and put his fingers to work on Bucky’s belt. He almost had it off when Bucky reached down and stilled his hands.

“Wait,” he said. “Does Steve know he’s getting... _coffee_ tonight?”

Sam shrugged. “He’ll figure it out. I’m sure Sharon’ll show him the ropes.”

Bucky snorted. “Hopefully not literally.”

Sam cocked his head, considering it. “Actually, I bet he’s into that.”

“And, we’re done,” said Bucky, refastening his belt.

Sam laughed and gripped Bucky’s hips again. “Get your ass back here,” he ordered, “and tell me what you want in your coffee.”

***

In the middle of the night, Bucky’s phone lit up the hotel room. Sam rolled over and grabbed it, squinting down at Steve’s message.

_Hey, Buck, did you know that coffee means sex now???_


End file.
